Turning Point
Surprising ray of sexy light,
perfume of Persephone,
came knocking, calling Me Sister.
She was the closest to a lover
that I have ever known.
(There was a bull, a rape, a funeral—
Did I dream it? Did I forget it?)
I don't know how I opened and took Her.
I stripped Her bare like a dead tree.
I hung Her up, a menstrual rag on a peg.
I snuffed Her flame.
Two kind words turned My wheel.
I lit Her flame again.
The universe groaned,
and I realized
the sound was coming
from My own mouth.
And then at last I knew delight:
I birthed, creating birth,
and all My pain became gestation.
I birthed the moon, symbol of change,
and after that nothing has been the same.
When I changed,
‘Nothing’ changed forever.
Now I have become Change only;
and I can't change fast enough, funny,
though I have all the time in the world.
© Tamara Rasmussen 2018